


Weight of Memory

by Pookaseraph



Series: Dimension Home [4]
Category: Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Extended Families, Fluff, Gen, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 08:28:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1503707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pookaseraph/pseuds/Pookaseraph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian's just glad his Uncle Bucky is over, even if he is treating Ian like a bit of a kid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weight of Memory

**Author's Note:**

> For leo-regulus on tumblr, who asked for "How about a fic with some interaction between Ian and his uncle Bucky?" Thanks for the kick in the ass to do some work on a fic

Ian always enjoyed when Uncle Bucky came to visit, unlike a lot of the other Avengers, including Dad and Tony, Bucky spent a lot more time wandering the country, and the world, and that meant _stories_. It also meant since Dad had spent most of the day with Bucky, and now was out with Tony for dinner, that he had his Uncle all to himself.

"So... ah... you wanna watch a movie?" Bucky offered. He was still new to the whole 'Uncle' thing, since he'd only really tried it two or three times since Ian had come to Earth and the Tower. He was pretty confused about 'kids', especially ones like Ian who didn't spend their time the way regular kids did.

"Dad said you were Captain America once, right?"

Bucky nodded, looking at Ian just a little suspiciously.

"So you know how to throw the discus?"

"Shield," Bucky corrected. Not that Ian would ever call it a shield, it was a discus, and Dad would just have to live with that. "And yeah, my arm means I can actually throw it, most people have a hard time with it. You want tips?"

Ian scrambled off the couch - the one in his and Dad and Tony's Tower condo - and pulled the discus out of the holder Dad kept it in when he wasn't taking it with him. "I thought you'd never ask."

Bucky laughed, and he reached out with his good hand and ruffled Ian's hair. "Alright, I see how it is, come on."

The two of them headed down to the training area, and they chatted, about this and that.

"How's school?" Bucky asked. "Learning lots?"

Ian hummed, happily. "Yeah, we're going on a field trip to the Negative Zone next week to learn about intergalactic politics. There's a ruler there, named Annihilus, and he used to have a Cosmic Control Rod, but now he doesn't, so he needs to lead like a good ruler, not like a tyrant. It'll be interesting. I learned a lot about leading from Dad."

"Does your father know you're actually visiting the Negative Zone? It's dangerous."

Ian shrugged. "It can't be that bad if Reed's allowed to take us, and yes, Dad knows." He gave a particularly theatric sigh that Clint had taught him.

Still, the two of them made it down to the training room, and when Bucky held out his hand, Ian handed over the discus, and started up a targets program.

"So the trick with the shield," Bucky said, flipping the discus over, letting it move against his palms as it spun. "Is that it's heavier than it looks, and you've got to--"

"Uncle Bucky."

Ian waited, and Bucky stood up a bit. "Yes?"

"I know how to _use_ the discus. I mean _advanced_ stuff."

"Well it's pretty tricky," Bucky said. "Maybe you _think_ you know how to--"

And so Ian reached up, and gently took the discus from Bucky, took a deep breath. "Computer, can I have 6 targets?"

Six targets showed up, moving slowly - Ian wasn't _that_ advanced yet - he took a deep breath, measured where the targets were, how they were moving, where they would be, and then he wound up, and released with the exhale. 

Four targets dinged, dead center, one a little high, and the last a little to the right. To catch the discus on the return, he had to stretch a little to the right - not far, but enough that it would have been a problem in a battle - but he caught it gently and then tapped it carefully against the floor, leaning on it.

" _Advanced_."

Bucky looked down at him, blinking, just a little. "Not sure why I'm surprised. Alright, advanced. Your throw's pretty good, but your on-the-fly targeting is a little weaker. Do you know trig?"

"Tony taught me some. I never used it in Z, though, Dad sort of taught me how you feel it, but I don't have it down just yet." Ian bit his lip and looked up, carefully, at Bucky, hoping that it was good enough to impress his Uncle.

"Well, let's see if we can fix that."

They did go back to basics, a little bit, and Ian allowed it because Bucky stopped treating him like a kid. Bucky walked him through drills the way Dad never had time to back in Z, hit-return, hit-return, hit-return, over and over, fifty throws in a row, fifty slightly different targets. Then they moved into two-hits, fifty throws, fifty perfect double ricochets. By the time they got to four, Ian's form was a little sloppy, and Bucky stopped to correct him more often than not.

When they finally stopped - five bounces - Ian groaned and collapsed on the floor, glowering up at the ceiling. "I'm never gonna get better."

"Pretty sure you already are," Bucky said, and he reached out with his hand and hauled Ian back up, even with Ian half-heartedly fighting. "Come on, short stack, let's get some food."

The two of them cleared their way through a monstrous amount of food, with Bucky actually telling him some stories from when he and Dad were in The War and all the things they got up to. Bucky loved the stories, loved knowing about Dad from before he was his Dad.

"You were Captain America for a while," Ian said, coming back to where they'd been hours ago. "Did you... did you worry about being a good Captain?"

"Always," Bucky said, without pausing. "Your dad was... gone, at the time, that's why I was Cap, and your dad had asked me to take up the shield while he was gone. I worried a lot that I wasn't good enough, and that I wasn't living up to the standards your dad would have had. It was a hard time."

"I worry about that. Dad said, back in Z, that when he was gone I'd use the discus to fight... I didn't want him to be gone, I didn't want to be alone, but if I didn't do it, who else would?" Ian bit his lip again, thinking, not wanting to consider how terrifying it was when Dad was dying, before he'd woken up on Earth. "It's a big responsibility."

"Yeah, it is. St-- your dad's a pretty awesome responsibility all on his own. You've got a lot of people looking out for you, though. When it's time, they'll make sure you do your dad's memory proud. Alright?"

"Easy for you to say..." Ian grumbled, but he elbowed Bucky - dinging his funny bone on the metal arm. "Ow."

"You'll get it right, kid. I know you will."

He and Bucky watched some Star Trek and ate popcorn and waited for Dad and Tony to get back from their date. When they did, Tony shooed him to bed, but he pouted at Dad until he got a bedtime story.

"Did you have a good day with Uncle Bucky?"

"Yeah. I wish he'd come over more. I know he's busy, but it's nice to talk to someone all... regular. He also knows about the mind control and the Zola and he understands that a lot."

Dad gave him a kiss, square on the forehead, and a little sigh. "I wish you didn't understand that. I wish I could have protected you from that."

"Bucky says martyr-y guilt trips come with the discus," Ian said with a little smile.

"Does he now?" Dad laughed, and then ruffled his hair again. "Go to bed, son. I love you. And I'll tell Bucky he'll lose some Uncle cred if he doesn't come over more often. How's that sound?"

"The best!"

Ian snuggled down into his covers, pulled his blanket over his head, and dreamed about the day he'd get to fight, side by side, with his dad, as an Avenger, just like his Uncle Bucky... but, no offense to Uncle Bucky, Ian was going to be a _way_ better sidekick.


End file.
